The Other Victor
by Laurette94
Summary: A few weeks before the 66th Hunger Games, Flossie Goldenwood stumbles upon District 12's only living victor, Haymitch Abernathy. The two strike up an unlikely friendship, will it last in the arena? Haymitch/OC.. Quite AU please Read and Review! MTOBEIYF **ON HIATUS WHILST I CONCENTRATE ON OTHER PROJECTS**
1. Prologue

Title; The Other Victor

Synopsis; A few weeks before the 66th Hunger Games, Flossie Goldenwood stumbles upon District 12'a only living victor, Haymitch Abernathy. The two strike up an unlikely friendship, will it last in the arena?

Rating; T for violence

Characters; Haymitch/OC

Themes; Romance/Adventure

Quick intro; This is my first ever crack at writing a Hunger Games fan fiction. It is AU, and Katniss/Peeta/Gale are barely, if at all mentioned here. Flossie is not your typical damsel in distress, more will be known about her as the story progresses, she is also not perfect. (I hate those characters)

I hope you enjoy the story, I will update as often as possible. I do have other stories to work on, and College is slowly taking over my life so I apologise for any long delays. I hope to have at least two or three reviews per chapter, but I will not halt progress if I do not achieve this. Reviews get hugs and please don't shy away from asking me questions or helping me with grammar, it is not perfect.

There will be an opportunity for you all to be incorporated into the story as tributes, stylists or mentors if you wish, I will make a form for you to fill out when the story gets there.

Until then, 'Happy Hunger Games' and 'may the odds be ever in your favour!'

-Laurette94


	2. Ripper's Number One Customer

AN; Hey guys, this is my first ever attempt at a Hunger Games fan fiction. It is slightly AU so I am aware of any 'inaccuracies' imagine Woody Harrelson as Haymitch, he did such a darn good job I couldn't resist! I also apologise for anything my characters say that sounds slightly odd. I am British so I'm not completely aware of American speech patterns etc. Please enjoy and read and review. I'm more vulnerable here than any of my Harry Potter fan fictions.

DISCLAIMER; All Hunger Games related goodness belongs to the amazing Suzanne Collins. OCs and the basic plot belong to yours truly.

CHAPTER ONE; RIPPER'S NUMBER ONE CUSTOMER

Opening their eyes, a young woman sighed in disappointment as she scanned the only room of her small shack. Her bed was low to the ground, a thin scratchy mattress lay atop with an even thinner blanket to keep her warm. Aged photographs decorated the fireplace that had not been lit for months. A small storage cabinet stood in the corner of the shack, containing her food and other worldly possessions. After stretching and yawning, she scratched her curly black hair and buried her head in her hands. She smiled softly as a black and white cat wound its way around her legs, purring contently.

"Hey there Orchid," she said quietly, petting the cat's head.

Flossie Goldenwood was an 18 year old girl who lost her father and brother in a mining accident several years ago. Her mother died a month ago from pneumonia, leaving Flossie to fend for herself. Unfortunately Flossie was barely adept at looking after herself, although she held a relatively steady job working for Ripper at The Hob and she had good trading links with the butcher and the bakers. Flossie was only just learning to feed herself and not others. Flossie regularly did go hunting in the woods surrounding District 12, none of the Peacekeepers seemed to mind as she supplied them with squirrels and rabbits. Whilst Flossie wasn't as good with a bow and arrow like the Everdeens but she was still a dab hand at throwing knives.

Flossie got up and rooted around in her half-empty storage cabinet.

"Let's see if we've got anything for you today," Flossie said to the small cat.

"Ah, here we go," Flossie said, ripping off some meat from a 2 day old bird carcass and tossing it to Orchid. Flossie crouched down and stroked the cat as it hungrily devoured the meat. Orchid looked up at Flossie, its bright yellow eyes looking at her expectantly.

"I'm afraid that's all I can give you Orchid, I need the rest for myself," Flossie said sadly. Her stomach rumbled and Flossie sighed.

Flossie went back to the storage cabinet and pulled off some more meat for herself. She picked up a half empty bottle of water and took a few sips for herself. Looking down at the half-starved kitten, Flossie poured some water into the cap of the bottle and allowed Orchid to drink from it.

"That's it," Flossie said with mock sincerity and crossed her arms. Orchid mewled pathetically and Flossie tilted her head sympathetically.

"I've got to go Orchid, I've got to go work," Flossie said, throwing on a pair of jeans and a relatively clean shirt. She tied her curly black hair into a messy bun and tied her sturdy pair of boots.

As Flossie left her shack, she turned back to look at Orchid before waving goodbye.

The hot summer sun shone down on The Seam, Flossie watched as apathetic looking miners prepared to work, school children walked uniformly to their school. Flossie dropped out of school after her mother died, knowing that she needed to work rather than learn. Flossie walked briskly to the Hob avoiding the moans and cries of the homeless as she walked past. Flossie shivered, knowing very well that she could be joining the homeless soon.

"All right Floss?" Greasy Sae said as Flossie walked past. The Hob was bustling with employers, employees and citizens of District 12. Several Peacekeepers were sat on stools at Greasy Sae's enjoying a bowl of soup each before going back on patrol.

"Hiya Sae, how's business?" Flossie shouted as the made it to Ripper's stall where she worked.

"Morning Flossie, grab us that crate will you?" Ripper said, the one-armed woman who sold alcohol to the citizens of District 12. Flossie complied and lifted a heavy crate from the floor to the counter.

"How are you Ripper?" Flossie asked after lifting several more crates.

"Good, good. You're looking a little thin Floss. Why don't you go back over to Greasy Sae and see if she can get you anything. My treat," Ripper said with a pat to Flossie's fragile back.

"Oh Ripper, I couldn't. No way," Flossie said shaking her head.

"Come on Floss, you know what's happening in two weeks. I just want you to be well fed and safe. Just in case you know?" Ripper said with a shrug.

A chill ran down Flossie's spine. In two weeks was the reaping for the 66th Hunger Games. It was the last year Flossie had a chance of being entered, being 18 years old. But unlike Effie Trinket's famous saying 'May the odds be ever in your favour' they were not in Flossie's. Flossie's name was in the bowl 30 times, she had applied for tessera at least 3 times every year, they were mainly used to help Ripper and her late mother. Flossie hadn't taken out tessera since her mother died, feeling that she could cope without it. Her bony figure and gaunt face was starting to tell her otherwise.

"I, please Ripper. I'm fine," Flossie said with a sad smile.

"Nope, my mind couldn't handle it. After all your family have done for me, please. Go," Ripper said with an air of desperation. Flossie, not wanting to aggravate her employer nodded and walked back over to Greasy Sae.

"Oh hiya love. Wanting anything to eat?" Greasy Sae said with a smile as Flossie reluctantly sat on an empty stool.

"Sure, Ripper sent me," Flossie replied giving an aggrieved look back at her employer.

"Loosen your pride girl, she's just looking out for you. You know she wouldn't if she didn't want to," Greasy Sae said seriously, putting a hand on top of Flossie's.

"I know, I just don't want her to be put out you know? I can pay for it," Flossie said, nodding her head and sighing.

"Come on, that's bull and you know it," Greasy Sae said with exasperation. Flossie pursed her lips and then shrugged her shoulders.

"Yeah I guess so," Flossie replied.

"Good, now eat," Greasy Sae said, pushing a bowl of broth in front of Flossie. Flossie inhaled the smell of the broth and felt her mouth start to water in response. It was no secret that Greasy Sae used prairie dog in her broth but the famished state of the residents of District 12 meant that they were more grateful that they had food in their bellies than what was contained in the actual broth.

Flossie almost drank down the broth, finishing it within minutes. Greasy Sae stood watching, amused at how Flossie ate. It was not unusual for people of District 12 to eat in such a way.

"Enjoy that?" Greasy Sae asked as Flossie slammed down the bowl.

"Yes ma'am, that was delicious," Flossie said with a sincere grin.

"Want any more? It's on me?" Greasy Sae said, tempting another bowl of the broth in front of Flossie's hungry eyes.

"No, no way. I must go back to Ripper now. Thank you for your kindness," Flossie said suddenly, getting up and nodding at Greasy Sae in appreciation.

"That girl will be the death of me," Greasy Sae muttered to herself as she watched Flossie march back over to Ripper.

"You're going to hate me for this," Ripper said ruefully. Flossie raised an eyebrow.

"What is it Ripper?" Flossie asked, trying to coax the information out of her.

"I need you to deliver these crates to someone," Ripper replied, pointing to 3 crates piled up on the counter.

Flossie exhaled, she had a good idea who she was going to deliver to.

"And who is that?" Flossie asked, crossing her arms.

"Haymitch Abernathy," Ripper said with a sad smile.

Flossie pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Haymitch Abernathy was the only living victor of District 12 after winning the 50th Hunger Games almost 16 years ago. He was a hateful man, sour, acerbic and a raging alcoholic. However, he was one of Ripper's main customers, he ordered several crates a week and was perhaps one of Flossie's least favourite people in District 12.

Haymitch was a good friend of Flossie's late father, much to her displeasure. They would often be seen propping up Ripper's bar stools together. Flossie's father was no alcoholic, but the strain of the mines often saw him take comfort in a large bottle of white liquor. They suited each other, oddly. Haymitch was pessimistic and sarcastic whilst Flossie's father was light-hearted and witty. After Flossie's father died, Haymitch attended the funeral but offered no condolences. Instead he drank himself to oblivion and passed out.

"Okay, I'll go," Flossie replied. Flossie was not angry at Ripper, she just disliked Haymitch. Whenever she delivered to him he would never answer the door and if they ever saw each other around (which in itself was a very rare occurrence) he would always try to come on to her. He had gotten worse of late, it was perhaps down to the imminent Reaping Ceremony.

"It's got to be done dear, he's the only reason I'm still in business," said Ripper with a shrug.

"I know, it's fine. I guess that's one thing going for him," Flossie replied with an unconvincing smile.

"Well, off with you then. I'll see you back here soon okay?" Ripper said as she served a customer.

Flossie picked up the crates, buckling slightly under the weight and set off to the Victor's Village where Haymitch lurked. He was not known for being a social creature, and spent most of his time drinking himself into oblivion.

"Lazy so and so, why couldn't he come here and get the crates himself?" Flossie said, muttering under her breath. The hot unforgiving sun shone down on Flossie, droplets of sweat began to form on her forehead.

Flossie busied herself by humming songs to herself her father taught her when she was younger, music was usually forbidden in District 12, for any of the songs could sprout anti-Capitol meanings that may give hint to another uprising. Flossie shivered at the thought. She knew all about The Dark Days and the destruction of District 13. She had been taught it in school, the more she learnt about the history of Panem the more she feared the Capitol and its brutality, her father had always spoken fondly of the bravery of those who rose up against the Capitol. But whenever her mother heard her father speak of such a think she shrieked at him in horror, in fear of being punished.

Before too long Flossie reached the golden gates of the Victor's Village. There were several mansions, all but one were deserted, seeing as though District 12 had only one surviving victor. The other had died years ago.

A smirk never failed to appear on Flossie's face as she approached Haymitch's mansion. It was in a state of constant ruin, a few of the windows were boarded up, weeds grew in the garden. It was one thing Flossie admired about the alcoholic, it seemed he refused to bend to the Capitol's will. He lived a reclusive lifestyle, much like every other person living in District 12.

As per usual, the door appeared to remain closed. Flossie muttered expletives and put the crates down on the front door step.

She turned her back to leave when she heard a groan. Narrowing her eyes she tried to locate the sound. Another cry of pain made Flossie realise the noise was coming from inside the house. 'He's probably just recovering from a bad hangover' the cynical part of her brain said to her. However, the much larger, caring side of her psyche told her she had to help him.

Grumbling in frustration at her inability to leave anyone behind, Flossie tried to open the door, which was surprisingly unlocked. Immediately Flossie was overcome with smell of alcohol, sweat, dirt and what Flossie thought was urine. It took all of her strength to stop herself from vomiting on the spot.

"Mr Abernathy sir?" Flossie shouted uneasily, as she kicked the door closed behind her. She heard a strangled moan in response. She hurriedly put down the crates on the closest table and started searching the house.

"Sir, are you okay?" Flossie said, as she looked quickly in each room. She was greeted by the sight of ripped wallpaper, holes in the walls presumably made during moments of rage and drunken stupor, a numerous amount of empty spirit bottles and smashed glass in almost every room.

Flossie couldn't find Haymitch on the ground floor and slowly crept up the stairs to see if she could find him. She noted that he didn't have a banister and a few of the steps were either broken or missing.

She stumbled heavily up the last step and straight into a closed door. Flossie hit the door with a loud thump and felt her nose break.

Cursing under her breath in pain and opening the door she heard a startled shout. She had found Haymitch.

AN; I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. The second is well under way. There will be later on an opportunity to incorporate yourself into the story. PYOT etc. More details will be released once I get there. Until then, please read, review and subscribe. May the odds be ever in your favour!


	3. Revelations

AN; Sorry it has been a criminally long time since I last updated this, I've had so much on my plate, and I wanted to ensure I had finished and established a sequel to Love Will Set You Free so this took a bit of a back seat regrettably. I'm back though- so hopefully I won't ignore this any longer. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER; All HG goodness belongs to Suzanne Collins, OCs and plot belong to me.

CHAPTER TWO; REVELATIONS

A knife whizzed past Flossie's head and embedded itself in the door frame just inches away from her right temple. She shrieked in surprise as she ducked out of the way and tried to slow down her racing heart.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" Haymitch bellowed, before wincing in pain.

Haymitch was sprawled on the floor, his face was dishevelled and his blue/grey eyes bloodshot. Flossie could smell alcohol on him and she was at least 2 metres away.

"I-I, are you okay?" Flossie said noting the dried blood on Haymitch's shirt.

"No, I, get out!" Haymitch snarled. Flossie gritted her teeth and her stubbornness kicked in.

"You're hurt Mr Abernathy," Flossie said, trying to remain calm. Haymitch scoffed.

"It's just a scratch, now leave me alone," Haymitch said, attempting to stand up. Flossie rushed over to him as he fell back to the ground.

"I'm not leaving you until I treat you," Flossie said, a new tone of severity creeping into her voice. Flossie crouched over him, and reached into a backpack she always carried around with her.

"You know, I like it when women are tough with me sweetheart," Haymitch said darkly, before barking with laughter. Flossie glared at him, 'here he goes again' she thought to herself.

"Just shut up and hold still," Flossie said sternly before taking out a roll of bandages and herbs that she knew had antiseptic qualities. Her mother was a dab hand at healing, she had ran an apothecary shop alongside Mrs Everdeen. It had gone in to disrepair when Flossie mother died, but Mrs Everdeen still had some loyal customers. Flossie's mother had taught her all there was to know about the medicinal qualities of herbs and how to heal wounds.

"Fine, but can I ask why you were in my house, completely uninvited?" Haymitch said sighing.

"I came here to deliver your alcohol," Flossie said with distaste. "I was just about to leave when I heard you," Flossie continued, ignoring Haymitch's eyes light up when she mentioned alcohol.

"Where is it?" Haymitch asked.

"I'm not going to tell you until I've finished here," Flossie said strictly glaring at the drunken man.

"Oh come on sweetheart, don't be a spoil sport. I'm gasping for a drink," said Haymitch childishly Flossie's grey eyes narrowed into a fine line, silencing him.

"Well you're just going to have to wait then aren't you?" Flossie said, raising a strict brow.

Flossie started to get to work on healing Haymitch's wounds. She started to unbutton his shirt and jumped when Haymitch batted her hand away.

"Steady on sweetheart, you haven't even told me your name," Haymitch said with a playful glint in his eye. Flossie glared at him.

"Flossie," she replied. "Now let me get to your wound," she continued.

"I know that name. Flossie Goldenwood right?" Haymitch said, his glassy eyes starting to clear over in recognition.

"Yes, you knew my father," Flossie said, ignoring the sharp pang she got in her heart whenever she mentioned him.

"He was a good man. You look very much like him. I liked him," Haymitch said, wincing as Flossie noted the angry red scars that littered Haymitch's chest.

"Thank you. Although I blame you for the nights he came home intoxicated," Flossie replied, an amused glint in her eyes. Haymitch chuckled.

"Oi, steady on," Haymitch said as Flossie began to clean Haymitch's chest.

"How did you do this?" Flossie asked, concern flashing in her eyes, only to be replaced by annoyance.

"How do you think?" Haymitch said with a smirk, lifting a half empty liquor bottle and waving it around. Alcohol sloshed on to the floor and Flossie rolled her eyes.

"Yes well that was a stupid question I guess," Flossie said muttering to herself.

"How is Ripper?" Haymitch asked after a few moments of silence.

"She's fine, stocks are low," Flossie replied simply, Haymitch hissed in pain as Flossie coated the wound with the antiseptic herb and quickly tore at a strip of cloth between her teeth and securing it in place.

"That's a crying shame," Haymitch said quietly after Flossie finished doing what she could.

"What, that your supply will be cut short?" Flossie said sarcastically, the heat in her voice missing.

"Partly, but there's always the Apothecary that sells rubbing alcohol," Haymitch replied with a raised brow that looked like amusement. Flossie scoffed.

"That's true, now if you don't mind I need to go back to Ripper," Flossie said bowing her head slightly before getting up to leave.

"Wait," Haymitch said, clambering to his feet and holding on to the wall for support.

"What?" Flossie asked, before rolling her eyes. "The crates are downstairs on the table near the front door," Flossie continued before making her way down the stairs.

"No, wait!" Haymitch shouted, Flossie sighed and turned around as she made it to the bottom. Haymitch gripped the door frame, his breathing laboured.

"What are you going to do, once the stock runs out?" Haymitch asked, Flossie paled feeling completely taken aback by Haymitch's question.

"What I did before," Flossie replied simply, avoiding eye contact.

"I've seen you with him you know. And with the others, how he treats you," Haymitch said, before attempting to go down the stairs.

"I-I need to go," Flossie spluttered, before running out of the house and slamming the door behind her. Flossie clutched her chest, feeling her heart thrumming in her ears.

'He knows' she thought. She felt as if the whole world was spinning around her. She closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing which had become fast and erratic.

Flossie squealed when she felt the sensation of falling backwards, only to fall straight into an unsteady pair of arms. She looked up to see Haymitch's face just inches from her own, it seemed he had made an attempt to run after her, only to see Flossie collapse into his arms.

"Hello there sweetheart," Haymitch said blearily, his breath smelling heavily of liquor fumes. Flossie blushed furiously.

"Haymitch, you scared me," Flossie said, her pupils still dilated in shock. Haymitch chuckled and leaned Flossie forward, keeping his hands on Flossie's arms.

"Then perhaps you shouldn't get scared so easily," he said with a smirk. Flossie smiled weakly before turning back towards the door.

"Like I said, I really should go," Flossie said nervously.

"Wait, hang on there sweetheart. Have a drink, relax," Haymitch said with a drunken grin.

"I can't, Ripper will be expecting me," Flossie said, looking downwards.

"Come on, you know your Dad would never turn down a drink," Haymitch said pleadingly. Flossie looked up and sighed.

"Fine, but I can't stay much longer," Flossie said. Haymitch beamed at her and clapped her on the shoulder.

"That's more like it, here you go," Haymitch said, passing Flossie a large unopened bottle of liquor. Flossie opened the bottle with her teeth and took a small sip from the bottle.

"Happy now?" Flossie asked as the familiar burning sensation of alcohol ran down her throat.

"I'm never happy. Now tell me what you're going to do once the stock runs out," Haymitch said, taking a seat on a couch and leaning back. Flossie spluttered and coughed at Haymitch's boldness.

"You- you already know what I do," Flossie said, trying to stop the tears from forming in her eyes.

"I do, but I want to know why," Haymitch said, taking a long swig from his bottle.

"Here's a question, why are you so interested?" Flossie shot back, her expression turning hard.

"I knew your father Flossie, the least I can do is make sure you're safe," Haymitch replied, Flossie scoffed and drank from the bottle.

"You didn't care when my mom died, you didn't care when I almost starved to death, you didn't care when… since when have you cared Haymitch?" Flossie asked, as she felt anger rise.

"Ever since I saw you with him," Haymitch replied. Flossie's eyes shot to the floor.

"It's none of your business," Flossie said, rather pitifully.

"He brags about it you know, he's told me everything," Haymitch said, his tone strangely lacking mirth, and full of solemnity. Flossie's eyes shot up. She felt a lump in her throat, she fought the urge to cry.

"Well then you don't need to ask me about it," Flossie said, her voice cracking.

"Why do you do it?" Haymitch asked, taking a sip from his bottle.

"To survive," Flossie said, her eyes becoming hard. Haymitch sighed heavily and sank back onto his seat.

Since Flossie's mother had died, Flossie had been driven to do something her mother warned her against when times became financially difficult. It was a poorly kept secret that Cray, The Head Peacekeeper of District 12 gave money to young women who knocked on his door. Flossie saw other women come out of his house in the morning as she went to school looking degraded and broken but had a few extra coins to their name. Flossie had no other option as to become one of those women and now Haymitch knew about it.

"Ripper gives me money but she can't afford it. I barely get anything when I hunt, and Greasy Sae and Ripper are the closest people I've got to family. Cray doesn't give me much but it's something," Flossie said, trying to keep the tears from forming in her eyes.

"There, happy?" Flossie asked, her watery eyes narrowing.

"Still as unhappy as the last time you asked me," Haymitch replied.

"You need to stop seeing Cray," Haymitch said as he took a swig from his bottle.

"You need to stop pretending like you give a damn," Flossie shot back.

"You're a young woman, surely you have more dignity than that," Haymitch said, trying to get up from his sofa but his heavy legs wouldn't allow it. Instead he slumped back down and spilt alcohol onto himself.

"Look where we are Haymitch. We live in squalor, if we don't do what we need to survive, we die. Where is the dignity in that?" Flossie asked, unlike Haymitch she was able to stand and eyed the drunken man with annoyance and exasperation.

"Besides you can talk, I may live rough, but at least I don't drink my life away," Flossie continued, slamming her half-empty bottle of spirit onto the glass coffee table with a loud thunk. Haymitch jumped at the noise. Before Haymitch could say another word, Flossie stormed out of the mansion and back to the Hob.

AN; So I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please read and review to keep me safe. xoxox


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